Chapter 4 – The Shadow Hunters Arrive

The Emperor's Executioners

Beneath the towering spires of Solvador's Imperial Palace, hidden beneath layers of enchanted stone and divine sigils, lay a chamber few had ever entered and lived to tell the tale.

A single throne, sculpted from obsidian and dragonbone, sat at the center. The air was thick with an unseen pressure—the weight of an empire's authority.

Before the throne, kneeling in silent formation, were seven figures clad in shadow.

The Shadow Hunters.

Each one was a legend among assassins. They did not just eliminate enemies—they erased them from history. No records, no graves, no whispers in the wind.

And tonight, they had one mission.

The emperor, Lucian Ardentis, watched them with cold amusement. His golden eyes gleamed beneath the flickering candlelight.

"The Forsaken One has returned," he murmured.

A silence followed. Then, from the kneeling group, a man stepped forward.

He was tall, his frame wrapped in a cloak woven from abyssal silk. Beneath his hood, a single crimson eye glowed, the other hidden behind an enchanted eyepatch. His presence alone seemed to devour light, warping the very air around him.

He was known as Veydris, the Hound of Solvador.

The emperor's blade in the dark.

His voice was calm, emotionless. "The Forsaken Sovereign should not exist."

The emperor's lips curled. "And yet, he does."

Veydris tilted his head. "Then I shall remind him why he was forsaken."

Lucian leaned forward, fingers tapping his throne's armrest. "See that you do."

The seven figures vanished—and the hunt began.

---

The City in the Dead of Night

Far below the palace, in the labyrinthine alleys of Solvador's slums, Kieran moved like a specter.

The city still shook from his earlier battle with Alek. The streets were littered with shattered stone and broken lamp posts, their flames flickering weakly against the darkness.

Kieran felt it before he saw it.

A pressure. A shift in the air.

Predators.

He turned down a narrow street, stepping into the deep shadows between two ruined buildings—and disappeared.

Above, they arrived.

Veydris landed silently on the rooftop, his crimson eye scanning the empty alley.

For a moment, nothing moved.

Then—one of his hunters died.

No scream. No struggle. Just a flicker of violet energy—and the assassin's throat was gone.

The body collapsed without a sound.

From the void, Kieran emerged. His violet eyes gleamed as he watched the remaining six.

"Too slow."

Then he vanished again.

Veydris reacted instantly. "Formation Delta."

The hunters spread out, vanishing into the shadows. They weren't just assassins—they were killers of monsters, trained in the highest forms of supernatural warfare.

They would not be hunted.

They would hunt.

---

The First Strike

A whisper of movement.

Kieran turned—just as a curved dagger shot toward his ribs. He twisted, dodging the strike by inches, but before he could counter, three more blades came from different angles.

He grinned.

Good. They were fast.

But not fast enough.

He flicked his wrist, and the shadows beneath him exploded upward, forming an impenetrable barrier of void energy.

The daggers struck—and shattered.

The assassins barely had time to retreat before Kieran was upon them.

A single swing of Nightreaver, and the alleyway shook.

One assassin's head separated from his shoulders, a burst of violet mist where his neck had once been.

Another was crushed against the wall, his body imploding under the force of Kieran's power.

Four left.

Tsk. Too easy.

Veydris, still watching from above, let out a breath. Then, he moved.

Faster than a mortal eye could follow, he appeared directly in front of Kieran.

A red glow erupted from his blade. An abyssal sigil, designed to sever beings of the void.

Kieran blocked the strike—and regretted it.

The moment his sword met Veydris's, an explosion of dark energy rippled through his body.

His shadows recoiled. His muscles screamed.

Kieran staggered.

His eyes flickered.

What…?

Veydris did not hesitate. He pressed the attack.

One strike. Two. Three.

Each one faster than the last. Each one disrupting Kieran's void energy.

For the first time since his return—Kieran felt himself being pushed back.

---

The Power of the Hound

"Impressive," Veydris murmured, his blade spinning effortlessly in his grasp. "Even in exile, you've become strong."

Kieran wiped the blood from his lips. His expression remained calm—but his mind was already analyzing.

That weapon. It was crafted specifically to counter void energy.

Which meant…

He grinned. "You came prepared."

Veydris tilted his head. "The emperor is no fool."

Kieran cracked his neck. "Neither am I."

He exhaled—and released the next layer of his power.

The city shook.

Everything changed.

The sky darkened. The stars overhead flickered. The air grew heavy, as if the world itself was bending under some unseen force.

Veydris took a step back.

For the first time, his crimson eye widened.

A pulse of something deeper than darkness radiated from Kieran's form. The very concept of light and shadow began to unravel around him.

He was no longer simply using void energy.

He was becoming the void.

---

The End of the Hunters

The remaining assassins hesitated—a fatal mistake.

Kieran moved.

No teleportation. No shadows.

Just pure, absolute speed.

In an instant, he appeared behind the nearest hunter. Before the assassin could react, Kieran's hand passed through his chest—gripping his heart.

A whisper of violet mist—and the heart was gone.

The assassin fell, his body turning to dust.

Another leapt back, trying to escape—but found his own shadow reaching for him.

It dragged him down.

A scream. Then, silence.

Veydris did not look back as his men died. He simply adjusted his grip on his sword.

"Very well," he murmured. "No more restraints."

He lunged.

Their blades met once more. But this time—there was no balance.

There was only Kieran's victory.

With a single step forward, Kieran's power consumed Veydris's weapon. The abyssal sigils flickered—then failed.

Veydris's crimson eye widened as his blade—**his one advantage—**was erased from existence.

He barely had time to curse before Kieran's sword plunged through his chest.

A pause.

Veydris gasped, blood dripping from his lips. "…You…"

Kieran twisted the blade. "Tell your emperor."

Veydris choked.

"The Forsaken One isn't running anymore."

Then, with a pulse of void energy—the Shadow Hunters were no more.